


Princess

by goobzoop



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goobzoop/pseuds/goobzoop
Summary: Aaron is Spencer’s princess.I can't sleep so here's some smut Kinktober style
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 13
Kudos: 84





	Princess

**Author's Note:**

> They have safe words in this fic; they’re just not discussed because they’re in a LTR and so, to them, they’re implied.

Seven hours after the Fallon Park killer was shot, Spencer stood in the entrance to his bedroom watching Aaron, who had his back turned, and was staring idly at the nightstand. 

“Aaron…?” Spencer prodded. “Everything all right?”

His head turned, if only the slightest fraction, and he nodded as if he were still staring at that one spot, far off in the distance. 

“How about you shower first?” He pulled at his tie and loosened the knot, slipped it over his head and hung it on the doorknob. Aaron was still staring. 

“Aaron?”

“Hm?” This time the turn was more pronounced, but still not enough for Spencer to catch his eyes. “Sorry. Yes. Yes, Sir.”

Oh. Okay, yeah. 

Spencer cocked an eyebrow. He let the title hang in the air, the implications loud, as if blaring out of speakers on full blast. 

“Good boy. Go,” he said, and Aaron went.

Slowly, he unbuttoned his vest. A gear shifted up top, his brain recalibrating, and everything moved just a tiny bit differently. 

His dirty vest went into the laundry basket, his dirty shirt stayed on his chest. His shower would wait; he had plans in store for the way he reeked of a man who put in a long day’s work. He could list five studies off the top of his head that pinpointed the precise sensory response to the pheromones he was undoubtedly covered in, but the gears up top were working in formations that didn't have time for processes like that, no- these gears moved purposely. There was a goal, and only one path he could follow to reach it. 

He knocked loudly on the bathroom door adjoining to their room. “Aaron. Out, now,” he said above the hum of the shower. 

The water stopped. 

Aaron came out cheeks flushed and skin warm to the touch, or so Spencer assumed, since he was standing at a distance, not offering any affection.

Aaron didn’t speak, but then again Spencer didn’t expect him to. 

“Put this on,” he said, and Aaron looked up from the floor with longing eyes until he saw the lingerie in his hand. 

“Oh- I,” he said. 

Spencer scowled. “Excuse me?” 

“Do I have to, Sir?” His hand trembled holding the towel tightly around his hips. 

“Put it on, Princess. I won’t ask again.” 

Aaron ventured forward, outstretched his hand, surrendered himself to Spencer’s whim, and Spencer held tight as they shared a grasp on the lacy panties. “Drop the towel.”

Aaron flushed. His hand opened. It fell to the floor in a heap with all the rest of remaining inhibitions, and he stood naked, proudly, in front of someone who loved him dearly. 

Dearly enough to dress him up in pretty pink lingerie and emasculate him until there was nothing left but a little Princess. 

“Thank you,” he said.

Spencer stepped back, took a seat on the bed and watched. Aaron hated when he watched. Aaron _loved_ when he watched. 

He slipped barely there panties up his thighs and snapped the band high up on his hips the way Spencer liked. 

The clasp on the bra was difficult, despite all his practice, and he whimpered, frustrated, until Spencer said, “Turn around.” and fastened it for him. 

Aaron stood still, waiting, until Spencer grabbed his hips and spun him around, standing between his legs. Flush against his skin, Spencer trailed his hand, palm flat, up the length of his thigh. It slipped under the waistband of his tiny panties, and kept going, searching for something to twist. 

Aaron never jerks anymore, he knows better, so he stood still when Spencer sneaked under his bra and pinched his nipple. Only a whiny moan escaped his lips, and that was very much encouraged. 

Spencer withdrew, leaned back, and caught Aaron in a web. He stared, traced his blocky, jutting curves, his protruding muscles, hairy chest, unapologetic bulge. Aaron squirmed in it; failed to keep his feet planted on the floor, wiggled instead, shifted weight from one foot to the other, pressed down on his hip as if straightening down the pants he wasn’t wearing. 

There was nowhere to go. He was tangled, and Spencer was waiting. 

“How pretty…” Spencer said. He squeezed his ass and smiled sweet. 

“Thank you, Sir.” Aaron blushed. 

Spencer grabbed his wrists and placed them behind his back in silent order. “Do your panties make you feel pretty, baby? You like your little bra?”

He rocked on his feet, swallowed. Looked up the ceiling, and back to Spencer’s expectant eyes. “Yes, Sir. They do. I, um I-” He lost his breath. “I’m your little Princess.” 

“I know you are,” Spencer never took his eyes off him. With a gentle hand he pulled him forward and down straddling his lap. He raked his hand through his hair, rested the palm of his hand on his cheek and watched him melt into it. 

“Sweetheart, baby,” Spencer cooed. “My beautiful, beautiful Aaron.”

Aaron hummed softly. 

All in one swift motion, Spencer rocked up his hips, and flipped Aaron onto his back, sinking down until their noses were flush together, and the rise and fall of their chests gently brushed. 

Spencer surged forward, stole a kiss, and pressed with all the pent up emotion of the last few days. He pulled back, lips wet. Aaron's eyes were sparkling. 

He pushed his knees further up, and Aaron’s thighs parted wider in response. He dipped his head into the crook of his neck, and soft moans floated out, “Spencer...” and he licked a stripe up to his ear, nibbled his earlobe, breathed hot, wet, and heavy against him, sending shivers down his arm. “Spencer…”

Then he pulled back, peeled off his clothes, and loomed overtop, ready to conquer. 

Carefully, gently, lovingly, he slipped the panties to the side, pressed in with two wet fingers, and kept an eye on the way Aaron's mouth fell open, listlessly twitching. 

“Please, Sir—” 

His hips tipped up, seeking, and were pressed back down. “Need something, Princess?” 

“Please— please—” he sang, husky and hoarse. 

“Be a good boy and use your words,” Spencer said. He dove lower, bit the stubbly skin of his jaw, dragged his teeth up, kissed his cheek, nose, then temple. 

“Make love to me?” he asked. He could have anything he wanted with a voice like that. Watching his desperate eyes and obedient hands, Spencer gave in, gave him everything he had, gave him loyalty, attention, and love; if only to repay him for every beautiful moment he gave him that he could take and have forever. 

These moments were his, and his _forever_.

Theirs, even, because that’s what love is, and he pressed inside, stretched him good and with a familiar sweetness. He knew what Aaron needed, felt it in the twist of his body, the drum of heart. He fucked him hard. 

Aaron cried out thrust after thrust. He clawed and clung, pressed his thighs against his hips, tried to draw him closer, begged for more, used his words, pressed his nose into the musky skin of Spencer’s neck and licked the salty sweat from it.

“Spencer,” he moaned, panted. “I’m so close, please—” 

Desire to give, give, give, had him rolling his hips deep, trying to make Aaron ache, and reaching out for the leaky, swollen cock still waiting under pretty laced panties. Two quick strokes and he was cumming; an orgasm that tore out of him like a bullet. Spencer slid down, captured him in a kiss, swallowed the resulting moan that tumbled from his lips. 

Aaron’s shaking thighs fell slack around him, spent and surrendered.

Spencer licked his way into Aaron’s mouth and came hard inside him. “ _Aaron,”_ he gasped.

He tumbled to the side, looked up to find his lover's eyes and fell into a toothy, shamelessly loving grin when he did. “I love you, Princess,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too,” Aaron said.

He reached around, unclipped his bra, and tossed it into the laundry basket across the room.

Spencer peeked up. “Did you get it?”

Aaron laughed, and then pulled him up on his bare chest. “Oh, please. I never miss.”


End file.
